The Second Pandora
by rozulthorn
Summary: As if getting saved by a Greek god wasn't enough, Pandora has to deal with another who has a crush on her. And then there's her father...


1. Hide and Seek

Pandora closed her eyes and sighed with happiness as the bell rang for the end of maths. She walked slowly back to her form room, staying to the sides of the halls to avoid the stampedes of small children eager to leave for home and cartoons. Everyone else had vacated the car-park by the time she had collected her bag and her books. She trudged calmly out into the greyness of the streets, made darker by the high, close buildings on either side. As she continued on her way, the streets became narrower, darker, and Pandora became aware of a small group following her, teenage boys. There were about five or six, all tall and over eighteen, at least a year older than her. They slunk along behind her, staying just so far away as to appear casual and unconcerned. But Pandora knew they were following her. She felt vulnerable in her school uniform, tartan skirt, blue shirt and tie, with thin tights and uncomfortable shoes. She forced herself not to run away madly, screaming all the way. The boys slunk closer as she reached the darkest back-alleys of her route home. She could smell their cheap aftershave now, a pungent reek above the stench of bin-bags and rat-infested sewers. There was nobody else to be seen here, so the boys no longer kept up their casual pretence. They walked faster, and the thick, choking, fetid air grew colder with their menace. Pandora sped up her pace. She hoped vaguely that she might see another person before they caught up, that she would reach a bus stop, a cross-road, a main street. She did not. The houses she walked past now were old and dilapidated, in her panic to escape them she had wandered away from her normal path home. She turned a corner at random, and another. That was a mistake. The street twisted and narrowed to a small square, filled with old bins and a rusted car. There were no exits. She turned around, desperate. The boys had fanned out, blocking her escape, their expressions were cold, there was no mercy to be found there. They walked towards her and she backed away until she could feel the grimy wall behind her. She tripped on a crate of empty bottles and fell onto the damp floor. The boys were right in front of her now. Her heart was beating faster and her breaths came harsher and felt sharper in her dry throat. One of them reached down and grabbed her school bag. He threw it behind him and it skidded across the ancient, soiled cobbles. He grinned dumbly at her. The other four, she could see now that there were five of them, leaned down towards her. The tallest, but by no means biggest, leaned his face close to hers and spoke in her ear, his breath hot and moist.

'Scream, and you won't last long enough to see your help not arriving.'

He grinned in satisfaction at his own cleverness. His large, clammy hand reached out and grabbed her chin, forcing her to look into his eyes. They were dark brown, almost black, and seemed like dark tunnels to Pandora's terrified mind. She felt herself being drawn in, her body paralysed with terror. She felt his groping hands and heard the rustle of her tartan skirt but it was as though from another world, another body. He pulled her down towards him but her skirt snagged on the crate. She stopped, and he cuffed her in the face causing stars to dance in front of her eyes, and a large bruise to form down her jaw. Another of the group kicked her in the ribs, and a third punched her in the stomach. Her body convulsed and, with a ripping sound, her skirt came loose. Even if she had wanted to, her body could not fight back now, she had felt two of her ribs crack, and she was bleeding from a cut in her mouth. The pain increased as she lay there in the filth, a blinding hum of agony, punctuated by the occasional spike as one of the boys kicked or hit her. She had given up hope of escape now, her hoping only for unconsciousness, cessation of pain. She saw a light in the corner of her unblackened eye. She assumed it a mirage or hallucination induced by pain and shock. The light travelled down and hit the alley, close behind the boys. It hardened and coalesced into a tall, thin body. Numbly, she almost grinned, at least it was a nice looking hallucination. The mirage moved forwards and proved itself, in Pandora's eyes, to be false. It threw aside the boys who were furthest from Pandora. The boy who was closest to her, breathing his warm, smelly breath on her face, turned with a gasp. The mirage grinned and effortlessly pushed the boy aside, throwing him across the alley. There were only two left, they had been holding down Pandora's arms, they both advanced on the 'mirage' and were borne aloft each by a slight, glancing blow, to land ten metres away in a pile of waste and bin-bags. The 'mirage', a man of around 20, handsome and tall, with fair hair, pale skin, and glowing blue eyes, reached out and placed his hands on Pandora's chest, above her heart. Her skin felt warm at his touch, a tingle of pins and needles spreading down into her flesh and through her whole body, filling her with warmth and restoring clarity of mind. She looked up into the face of her healer; his face was creased with worry, but smoothed once he saw her looking. He smiled, and that smile brought to Pandora a sense of calm and serenity, banishing the adrenaline and fear which clogged her body. She pulled herself up into a sitting position and he removed his hands. He rose from his crouching position and offered her his hand, pale, long fingered hand, so she could stand also. She did, and remained so for a moment, before her balance left her and she swayed, about to fall. He caught her and wrapped his arms around her to keep her steady. He smiled again, and whispered softly to her, 'sleep, recover, sleep.' and as he did so he drew his hand across her eyes. They closed, and she fell back into his arms to sleep, a smile on her face.

2. A God in the Kitchen

With a returning consciousness came pain, a throbbing pain in her ribs and face, growing and forcing her to wake. She opened her eyes, one of which pulsed dully, and looked around her. She was lying on a large bed, draped in purple silk sheets and housed in a white, luxurious room. She still wore her dirty school uniform however, and could feel the rip at the back of her skirt. She looked around the room, and jumped in shock as she saw the man in the chair. He sat in an alcove at the side of the room, almost invisible in the shadows. He was the man she had thought a mirage and he was smiling gently at her.

'Good morning.' he said, his voice cool and casual. 'You slept well I see. I hope

you are comfortable?' He smiled again and she was silenced momentarily by his looks.

She quickly regained her tongue.

'Who are you?' she asked, her voice shrill, 'Where am I? Why did you help me? and thank-you.' she added blushing.

He smiled again, and leaned forward. 'All will be explained my dear, all in good time. You need a change of clothes, but I thought you would resent me doing so whilst you slept. Come with me, I assume you are hungry.'

He got up, and Pandora followed him silently, her feet sinking into the soft, white carpet. The hallway she entered was also white, and colder. She entered another room, a kitchen. This was also white, with a tiled floor and pale wooden cabinets. There was a small wooden table with simple chairs around it. The room seemed artificial, as though no one used it. The man was busy proving her wrong. He was pulling crumpets and slices of bread out of a large tub, and putting them into a huge toaster. A few minutes later a plate sat in front of Pandora, steaming, buttery crumpets and toast piled high, so delicious the smell that Pandora's mouth watered and her stomach grumbled loudly. The man gestured that she help herself, but she restrained herself. He grimaced and shrugged.

'Where am I?' Pandora repeated her question more forcefully, 'Who are you? Why am I here?'

'You are here to recover; you took quite a beating in that alley.' The man touched her hand gently, sending shivers up her arm and across her back. She snatched her hand away.

'Where is here? Shouldn't I be in a hospital?' her voice had risen in pitch now, and she cursed silently at the weakness of her tone. 'Tell me!'

'All in good time, you will see. But first let me introduce myself, my name is Hermes, and you…?' he smiled again, but Pandora looked down and away from that warm beauty. He stared at her.

'Pandora, Pandora Angela Emmeline Jacobson.' She looked away, embarrassed at the man's continued gaze. 'We seem to share old fashioned names.'

The man shrugged again but continued to stare at her. Then he stood.

'If you do not wish to eat, I will show you where we are.'

Pandora grabbed a few crumpets and followed him out of the room.

He led her through the hall again, and through a darker wooden door at the other end. The door led onto a balcony, suffused with morning sunlight. The balcony itself was made of white marble, polished and flawless. It glowed in the bright sunlight, magnifying its glare so that even the floor seemed to be made of brilliant white fire. The view was equally spectacular. An uninterrupted landscape of clouds, a glittering sea in the distance, sapphire blue, and fields of green stretching out to either side of Pandora's view. A mountain reached down below her, right down for so long it seemed impossible. The whole thing was unspoilt, the few people and animals too small to be seen as more than tiny ants from this height. Pandora was in awe of the view, and afraid.

'How long have I been unconscious?' she asked, her voice trembling. 'This is certainly not London. It doesn't even look English.'

'You are right, of course, this is Greece. And you have been unconscious for only one night, as the condition of your bruises will testify. And don't look at me like that,' he was reproachful, Pandora wore sceptical look and had made a derisive sound at this. 'I am a quick traveller.' He cast his gaze over the beautiful landscape. 'Guess where we are. Go on.' he said, his casual tone concealing a more serious edge. 'You seem a smart girl, have a go. I doubt you can.'

'Err…' Pandora hesitated. She looked around her. 'Well, judging purely on the mountain I would say that this is Mt. Olympus itself. But the landscape and architecture tell me that this is not Mt. Olympus as I know it to exist. I have visited this place, Hermes, if that is your real name, and it looks nothing like this. This looks like some, idealised fairytale, a fantasy of the reality.' She looked at him sideways, askance in her gaze.

'You are right, partially at least.' He returned her gaze. 'This is the world as seen in the myths and legends of ancient Greek time. This is the world of the Gods. My world. The world of your namesake.' He looked away and leant forward onto the marble balustrade. He sighed.

'You're mad!' Pandora laughed, 'Completely insane! You think you're a God? Where am I really, or more importantly, where is the exit?'

Hermes stepped back from the balustrade, he seemed to grow taller. Clouds formed in the sky around the balcony and a wind stirred the plants that trailed over the edges of their pots. A drop of rain spattered onto the smooth marble floor, now grey like the sky, soon followed by more. He turned to face her, growing taller yet, dark fires burning behind his eyes and shadows writhing beneath his feet. When he spoke, his voice was deeper, darker and cold as a shadow across the sun. His hair, no longer fair, flew around his head in the ever increasing wind.

'Do not speak to me like that.' His voice was quiet, and chillingly calm. He stepped towards her. The ground froze at his steps. Pandora's long dark hair streamed past her in the fierce gale. 'Now do you believe me?' He asked, ice crystals forming at every word.

Pandora shivered, her lips numb and blue with cold. 'Yes,' she whispered, terrified and awed, 'Yes…'

'Good.' and suddenly the world was as it had been before, as though nothing had happened. Hermes smiled his beautiful smile again. 'Come inside, I'll find you some clean clothes, and you could have a bath if you want. I'll show you where to go.'

As she turned to follow him, Pandora wiped a raindrop from her arm, and shivered, knowing what she had seen was real.

3. Toga and Tea-towels

The bathroom was pristine. Tiled black and white, a claw foot tub dominated the room. It was huge, larger than baths normally are made. There were sumptuous white towels on a large golden rail. There was no toilet, it had its own room, but there was a cabinet containing wash supplies. Like the rest of the house that she had seen, the room was a haven of minimalism. Pandora enjoyed a long soak in the huge bath, feeling the grime wash away. The warm water soothed her aching ribs and face. She climbed out and wrapped herself in the soft white towels. Outside of the bathroom, she found a pile of silky white cloth, which turned out to be a sort of ankle length, sleeveless toga, along with some underwear. Pandora emerged from the bathroom feeling very silly. She reached the room she had woken up in, and Hermes came out. Earlier, Pandora's mind had somehow ignored, or at least failed to notice his clothes. It wasn't that he had not been wearing any, it was just that they had not imprinted themselves on her conscious mind. Now she could clearly see that he had been wearing a Greek robe all along. It was purple, trimmed with gold, and it fell to his knees. His shoes also came into focus, winged sandals. Any other man would have looked stupid in the outfit, but he wore it with such easy grace, such confidence, that it seemed the most natural thing in the world.

He led her to the kitchen once more.

'Would you like anything to drink?' he seemed more formal now, stiffer, perhaps the incident on the balcony weighed on his mind. Pandora assented and received a tall glass of fruit juice, deliciously cold. Then she marvelled as she watched an ancient Greek god do the washing up. She snorted into her drink.

He looked up, bemused.

'Don't you have a dishwasher?' she asked, almost giggling. 'Wouldn't a god be able to afford one?'

'Nothing to do with that.' replied Hermes gruffly, dislike at being laughed at showing clearly on his face. 'No mortal devices which require power of their own can operate up here.'

'But you used the toaster!'

'No, I used the semblance of a toaster and transferred my power into it. It was an easier concept for you to deal with before you understood who I am. Will you help me do the drying up?' he asked, handing her a tea-towel.

The simple task of drying the dishes reminded Pandora of the home she had not returned to.

'Does my mum know that I'm safe?' she asked as she dried. 'She will have called the police by now.' that thought was accompanied by a complete lack of idea as to what she would tell the police as her excuse. "A Greek god rescued me." would end only in a psychiatrist visit.

'You have not missed a second of time in your world. Time flows differently here. I can return you at whatever point you require.' was the simple reply. 'Would you like to have a look around?'

4. Next-door Neighbour

Pandora's disbelief as to her surroundings and the identity of her rescuer remained, despite his display on the balcony. While her conscious mind accepted that it had been a paranormal occurrence, her subconscious still kept throwing up ideas about stage lighting and special effects. She followed Hermes a little uneasily around his home. It was a flat, furnished in black and white mostly, with wood furnishings and soft carpets. It was luxurious, but uninteresting. The gardens were far more spectacular. They housed exotic plants and flowers from across the world, Hermes told her, and had to be carefully tended by the gardeners. Pandora was amazed at their size. There were paths and twists and turns leading to new sections and fountains or patios and terraces, even a swimming pool overlooking the same beautiful view she had seen from the balcony. Hermes led her through it all, naming plants and giving her some odd facts about each of them. He finally led her to a small, nondescript gate, down a path filled with holly and briar roses. He went to unlatch it, then snatched away his hand as though burned.

'Can't take you through there,' he mumbled, 'not supposed to take mortals…' his voice trailed off.

'What's through there?' Pandora was, of course, curious.

'Someone else's place. You can't go in; he may not be in human form, that could kill you.'

'Would that be, like, another god? I know in the legends it said that a god's true form would burn any mortal that saw it, is that true? Who is it?'

'Yes, another god, Apollo. And yes it is true that our true form is fatal to mortals.' He glanced at her sideways, 'Do you know much about Greek mythology then? I thought nobody studied it anymore.'

She proceeded to explain how, yes most people didn't study that sort of thing anymore, but she wanted to study classics at university so she took a special interest. She was passionately arguing about the relevance of Greek mythology and she failed to notice the light coming up to the gateway. She was half facing the gate, ranting, when Hermes grabbed her and violently twisted her around away from the gate. She fell over onto the gravel, cutting her knee through the robe she wore.

'Human!' shouted Hermes, but not at her. There was a sort of sucking sound and the fiery light that had shone golden past the gate died away.

Pandora stood up, and turned to see another man, around the same age. He had hair so golden it seemed to glow, cut just long enough to dangle stylishly around his face. His skin was lightly tanned, and slightly freckled, and he had strong, muscular arms. He wore a different sort of robe which left half of his muscular chest uncovered and he was taller even than Hermes, well over six feet. Pandora felt her knees go saggy as he smiled down at her. He was so beautiful he made Hermes look like a girning champion in comparison.

'Show off.' muttered Hermes darkly under his breath.

They sat on one of the larger terraces, overlooking the stunning view, and someone had brought out a pitcher of juice filled with ice cubes and three glasses before they got there. Apollo sat opposite Pandora and smiled at her, she swayed visibly at the power behind the smile, the confidence he radiated.

'Cut it out,' said Hermes, elbowing him, 'you're so annoying when you're charming them. And besides, the conversation takes a dip of about 30 IQ points.'

Apollo seemed to shrink the almost visible glow of charm and power. He seemed slightly more human, and Pandora felt her knees go back to normal. Her face started to twinge with pain from the gravel cuts. She rubbed it, and Apollo reached out and brushed his fingers across her face, bringing a warm, soft feeling that wiped away the stings. Pandora felt her face gently, the cuts were gone, and the black eye and bruised jaw from the day before.

'How did you…?' she gaped at him.

'Healing.' He replied. His voice had a strange lilt to it, as though he was about to laugh. 'Hermes could have done it too, but obviously didn't want to waste his power.'

Pandora would have cowered at the look Hermes shot at Apollo just then, but the taller god appeared not to notice.

'I thought it best the cuts remained. It is better for the body to heal itself.' Hermes seemed sullen, a surly teen compared to the other.

'Whatever. Are you his new toy then? She's a bit young really.' he chided Hermes, 'Doesn't even look fourteen.'

'She is not my toy!' Hermes said, at the same time as Pandora yelped, 'I'm seventeen, actually.' She couldn't believe that she was having drinks in a fantasy world and yelling at an immortal god about her age. She almost expected to wake up now, on the alley floor in agony.

Apollo sat back smiling, 'She doesn't believe you know.' he grinned at Hermes. 'And besides, you know what father said after the last one Di brought up. How long were you planning to keep her here?'

'Just until the cuts healed. And this is different; Di was being a complete idiot.'

'Excuse me, but what exactly is going on, please? And when can I go home?' Pandora was frustrated at the enigmatic smile on Apollo's face; he was deliberately trying to annoy her, she was sure.

'You can go home as soon as your cuts have healed and your uniform has been cleaned. Then you can pretend whatever you want about why you were late home from school and imagine this never happened.' Hermes, too, was obviously irritated by Apollo.

'Just heal her cuts and be done with her! She doesn't look worth the trouble. You take your duty to road users far too seriously, brother.' He punched Hermes playfully on the shoulder. 'No one cares about that anymore. Just stay up here like we do and enjoy the R and R.' He grinned again and the sun seemed to shine more brightly on the terracotta paving. Then he drained his glass and left, wandering off through the thick foliage of the garden.

5. Going Home

Hermes seemed in a bad mood after that and told Pandora that she could wander as she saw fit in the gardens, and to make herself at home in the house. She did so, and the next few days passed in sunny happiness. When her bruises had disappeared after four days, Hermes came and spoke to her again.

'I apologise for being an imperfect host these past few days, but Apollo has a way of irritating me that hangs around for a while. I would not have been good company.' He handed her the uniform she had been wearing five days before. 'I will take you home now, you should go and change.'

She emerged from the bathroom five minutes later wearing the tartan skirt and blue shirt. The tights had a large hole in them, but that was normal. What struck Pandora as odd was how the robe she had been wearing now seemed so natural, and this outfit made her feel awkward and vulnerable. The schoolbag was also strangely heavy after a few days relaxation. Hermes took it off her and led her through another door, one which she had not used during her stay. She could tell these were his personal rooms, and had left them. There was a smaller hallway and a few doors leading out. One led onto another, smaller balcony.

They stepped out into the sun and Hermes offered her his hand.

'I have to carry you now; it's the only transport through. Try not to wriggle, I don't want to drop you.' He grinned, beautiful, and Pandora smiled weakly back. He picked her up easily, and she felt all cold and tingly at his touch. Then he stepped off the white marble balcony and into the empty air below.

Pandora was too shocked to scream. They fell for a few seconds, then stopped in mid-air and flew forwards towards an outcrop of the mountain. There was a dark cave there, and Hermes flew into its mouth, full of jagged rocky teeth. The air rushed past them, warm and smelling of plants. It was too dark to see, but Pandora thought she heard bats. The tunnel lasted only a short way, until they emerged. There was no cave behind them then, only a high building. Hermes landed on the roof and took Pandora down in the lift, flashing a small plastic pass at a few guards. They were in London, not far from Pandora's home. She gasped for air as she realised she could taste the pollution, compared to the purity of the air she had breathed the past few days. Hermes silently handed her her bag. Then paused, and reached into a pocket for something. He held out his hand to Pandora and she took a necklace from him. It had a short silver chain and a small medallion bearing an engraved caduceus, the sign of Hermes.

'To protect you, and for luck. Goodbye.' And then he was gone, before Pandora could thank him, or just say goodbye. She slipped the necklace on and tucked it into her shirt. Then, as an afterthought, she pinched herself. The world still looked the same, and the necklace was still there. Her forehead creased with contemplation, she set off walking home.

6. Sunlight and Shadow

The next few days passed oddly for Pandora. She was disorientated after skipping almost a week, like bad jet-lag. She wore the necklace permanently, both as a reminder of those few days, and out of a strange sense of obligation. Life had seemed depressingly dull since that day, and Pandora felt incredibly grateful for the shortest glimpse of something else, something divine, a force behind the world. She had worried about death and the end as a child, and the knowledge that there was a god, and a whole lot more, brought huge relief. But the strange conversation with Apollo weighed on her mind. 'The last one Di brought up…' Pandora was prepared to assume that 'Di' was Dionysus, god of the vine, and that he had brought a mortal to the home of the gods. That had brought with it curiosity, as everyone had always said was her greatest fault. Now she had heard about it, she wanted to know how many others had seen this place, and why. She wondered too, why had he saved her? Crimes like the one the boys had been about to commit happened often, all over the world. Why had she been saved, when so many others had been left to suffer?

Her contemplation was fruitless, however. She had no way of ever researching the phenomena, and no way of contacting Hermes again. She had nothing to go on. She began to lose sleep over it, and had bad dreams when she did sleep.

On a Sunday night, about three weeks after her rescue, she had the worst dream so far. It had not been too bad to begin with, just reliving the events on the mountain, but then others had appeared, gods and goddesses. Some had eyes like dark pits and waxy white skin and they had grabbed and torn at Pandora's skin, her clothes, and dragged her down into darkness, screaming without sound. She had woken in terror. The moon was shining into her room, illuminating her bed and sections of the walls. She sat up, trying to calm herself and staring at the familiar surroundings. But they were not so familiar after all. Just for a second, she glimpsed a face, a woman's face, dark haired and dark eyed, watching her. Then it had gone, as though it had never been. Pandora shook herself, thinking she must have still been half asleep. As she lay down and closed her eyes, trying to call back slumber, she never noticed that her necklace was glowing faintly in the darkness.

The next day, in school, Pandora was tired and listless. Sleep had not returned easily, and dawn was close to breaking when she had finally succumbed. Though the sun shone into the classrooms in the morning, cheery and bright, Pandora felt cold and dull. She did not pay much attention to the lessons and stared out of the windows, or into blank space. In English, just before lunch, she was staring out into the school garden, a pathetic affair with stunted trees and withered plants around a dirty pond. The sun had become brighter by then, and a heat haze hovered over the gravel path. Behind one of the trees, Pandora saw a movement. At first she thought it was one of the gardeners, but a flash of golden hair was all she needed to know otherwise. Apollo. He stepped out into the sunshine, apparently basking in the warmth and looked straight at her. Then he was gone, and the heat haze shimmered more strongly over the path.

In bed that night Pandora did not sleep. She lay watching the wall, a particular spot, and waited, hoping that she had not been hallucinating. Around midnight, she was rewarded. The moon came out again, and shone once more into the gloom around her bed. She saw the face again, and this time knew who she saw. Artemis. Goddess of the moon and the hunt, and sister of Apollo. She had not noticed Pandora looking, and she stepped out of the shadows. She was as unlike her brother as it was possible to be. Her hair was long, dark and unkempt. Her skin was translucent pale and shone like the moon itself. She did not share her brother's musculature either, she was thin and willowy and long of limb. She stalked out into Pandora's bedroom and proceeded to rifle through the drawers of the cabinet, to peer at the books on the shelves and then, to Pandora's shock, to search through all of her computer files as well. She seemed unsatisfied at what she found. Pandora wondered whether she dared address the goddess, ask why she was here. She did not. She sensed that this goddess was far more dangerous than the two she had already met, less human and more animal, a true huntress. The goddess prowled around the bedroom once more, then was gone. Pandora fell asleep soon after, but another pair of eyes had been watching from the gloom.

Apollo did not like the modern mortal world. He had loved ancient Greece, Rome had been quite good, and even the Middle Ages had held some interest, but the modern world just bored him. The humans had little time for any gods at all and lived such dull, mass produced, lives that he had very little sympathy left for them. Many of the other gods shared his view. Only a few, Hermes, Poseidon and some others, still took any interest in mortals at all. Hermes was often ridiculed for his devotion to travellers. Apollo grinned to himself as he thought of Hermes, with that girl he had rescued. She hadn't seemed worth the trouble of saving, though she was very pretty. She had had the look in her eyes of someone who didn't believe what she was seeing. Despite this, Apollo had felt strangely drawn to her. There was something very familiar about her, but he hadn't been able to figure out what. Frustrated at not knowing, he went down to earth, and watched her, hoping to remind himself. He had watched her all morning and had regretted it. Though he still did not know who she reminded him of, he felt utterly captivated by her, so he had not noticed her looking. She had seen him. He felt foolish, it had been a long time since he had felt this way about a mortal and was uncomfortable with it. The only way to solve it was to speak to her again. He laughed again, at least it would annoy Hermes.

7. Breaking Rules

On her way home, Pandora stayed in larger streets. Though over three weeks had passed, she still worried about the boys. The route was longer, but she was around people all of the time. At least, she normally was. Today, very few people were out on the streets. The sun was beating down again and Pandora could feel the skin burning on her neck. She kept checking nervously behind her but no one was following her. She calmed a little. The sun was obviously irritating more than her skin. She decided to take a shortcut through an alley. It was short, she reasoned, and the shade inside would help her skin. After a few paces inside the alley, Pandora heard a voice from a doorway.

'Well hello little girl, you're coming with me.' The voice was male, and sounded threatening.

Without thinking, or even looking into the doorway, Pandora swung her bag at the voice then ran down the alley as fast as she could. Apollo appeared in front of her, a bruise on his face healing rapidly. He grabbed her around the waist and jumped into the air, heading for the tall building Hermes had brought Pandora to. She squirmed in his grip and he tightened it painfully. Her arm was pinned to her side and her hand was hurting from trying to hold her bag. They reached the building and went above, where a large tunnel appeared in the air, leading back to the home of the gods.

Apollo's home was different to that of Hermes. His gardens were far emptier and the house bigger. The rooms were white, with golden edging, and everything glowed intensely. Pandora was dumped unceremoniously on the couch before Apollo spoke to her again.

'That hurt you know.' He whinged, sounding like a child.

'Good.' Pandora put as much vehemence into that one word as she could. She sat back sullenly, staring at her knees.

'Whatever,' Apollo shrugged off her defiance, annoying her more. 'Who are you?' He tried to sound innocent.

'You don't know? You just kidnapped me from a street and you don't even know who I am?' Pandora was shocked, and angry.

'Of course. I wanted to know. You should be honoured that I'm interested.' His gaze on her seemed more than just interested.

'My name is Pandora,' she said, shocked by his arrogance. 'I'm just a normal teenager.'

'That I doubt.' He sat down next to her, leaving her no room to move away. 'You look a little like your namesake you know. She was a beautiful woman too.'

Pandora tried now to get away from him, but he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and grinned at her.

'Relax, I don't bite.' His smile flashed brilliantly white. 'You are beautiful you know?' And before Pandora could move, he leant down and kissed her. She was paralysed with shock. His lips were soft and sent tingles across her skin as they brushed against hers. He held her there, close, for a moment then pulled back and smiled again. He loosened his grip on her shoulders and Pandora leapt up. She sprinted out of his house, and headed through the garden in the direction, she hoped, of Hermes' home. She pulled the necklace out and rubbed it between her fingers, hoping. She saw the gate, and the holly and briar rose. Relief spread through her like a drug, only to be replaced by fear as Apollo appeared in front of her, standing barefoot on the dusty path. He was still smiling. She had been running too fast to stop quickly and she had run into him before she had chance to turn away. He caught her in his large, tanned arms and held her close. He tilted her chin up so she faced him and leant down to kiss her again. She wriggled in his grasp, and a flicker of annoyance passed fleetingly across his face. He kissed her again and she tried to kick him. He held on and kissed her harder. She kicked again but only caught a glancing blow to his calf. Her arms were trapped and she couldn't hit him, she couldn't move her upper body at all. He moved back slightly and looked at her, his eyes misty and far away. He made to kiss her again and she wriggled worse than ever. His arms were crushing her, she was about to scream, when a voice carried over the gate, full of irritation and annoyance.

'What in Hades' name are you doing?'

Hermes strode through the gate and walked up to Apollo. Then he saw the blue skirt and shirt, the tights and the dark hair. Pandora was wriggling and making strangled noises, as though trying to speak.

'Let her go, she can hardly breath.'

'This is none of your business brother, she does not have your protection anymore.' Apollo grinned, his teeth seeming almost pointed in his glee. 'Go back to your mortal watching, I'm sure another pathetic needs your help.'

'Look around her neck you moron. She does have my protection.' Hermes hoped fervently she was still wearing it.

Apollo looked dubiously at the collar of Pandora's shirt. He saw the glint of silver and pulled it out. Seeing the pendant, he dropped Pandora onto the floor, where she gasped for air and coughed in the dust. He growled and spun on his heel, marching away back to his home. Hermes leaned down and helped Pandora stand. She wobbled slightly, and grabbed at his arm to steady herself. Her ribs ached from Apollo's grip. Hermes let her gain her balance then went forward and opened the gate, leading her through. She didn't pay much attention as he led her through the gardens and started when she realised she was in his kitchen again. He gestured for her to sit at the table, then poured her a glass of juice and sat opposite her while she drank it. He said nothing. When she had finished the juice, she felt better and decided to ask,

'Why did Apollo just abduct me off the street?'

'He did?' Hermes looked quite shocked. 'He was breaking quite a few rules to do so, he had no jurisdiction. Streets are mine to watch, not his. He must _really_ like you.' He did not smile as he said this.

The information was no comfort to Pandora, she pushed the image of Apollo kissing her out of her mind.

'Thank-you,' said Pandora, going red. 'That's the second time you've saved me. What can I do to thank-you?'

Hermes knew what he wanted to ask for, _a kiss_, but knew he could not. She had just been abducted by an amorous god, another one was hardly going to be well accepted. He just shrugged in reply.

Pandora just sat back and gazed at her surroundings. Being here a second time felt so… comfortable, like this was a home she loved. It was not just that it was nicer than her own house, it had a calmer atmosphere. Hermes, too, was wonderful. Pandora knew she felt more than just gratitude towards him, but ignored it. It was doubtful two gods were in love with her. Just my luck it was the wrong one, she thought. She wondered if she should ask about Artemis being in her room, but decided against it. She had seen what Apollo had wanted, no doubt his sister had been helping him find out about her. A thought hit her suddenly, another curiosity.

'Did you know the first Pandora, the one from the legend?' She asked Hermes.

He looked up at her, his train of thought broken.

'Not really. I met her once, we all did. She looked a little like you, but she was shorter. She asked a lot of questions too, another similarity.' He grinned slightly.

'Why did your parents name you after her anyway?'

'Parent, singular. Just my mum. I don't know. It isn't as though she's into mythology or anything. I think she just liked the name.' Pandora sighed, she didn't like to think about her unknown father. It upset her mother to talk about it, and it upset Pandora that she knew so little about him, not even his name.

Seeing her discomfort, Hermes left the subject at that. He wondered what he should do about Apollo going after Pandora again. If he told Zeus, or any of the Council of Twelve, he would not see her again either. But if he left it, Apollo would almost certainly meet her again, he was persistent like that. Undecided, he spoke again,

'You should stay here for a while. I need to think how to get Apollo to leave you alone.' As he stood, he brushed his hand across Pandora's, and saw a snapshot of her mind. He couldn't help it, it was one of the uncontrollable reflexes that all of The Twelve shared. He saw a feeling, aimed at him, and his heart soared. He turned away, grinning, suppressing the urge to skip.

8. Stay In Touch

Hermes returned within ten minutes. He carried a small, round object and was looking rather pleased with himself. He sat down opposite Pandora and opened his hand. Sat on his palm was a black stone, circular and flawless. In seemed to suck in the light that shone onto it from the wide window. Hermes handed it to Pandora, it was heavier than she had expected and was warm to the touch.

'This stone is connected to me, and I to it.' explained Hermes. 'If you are in trouble, or something happens which means you need my help, hold on to the stone and say my name. I will hear, and I can come to help.' He gestured at her necklace. 'You have to wear that at all times though. Apollo cannot take it off you, but nor can I help you if you take it off and something happens.' He had never been so thankful for the laws on jurisdiction. Apollo could do nothing to Pandora.

'Thank-you, again.' Pandora felt herself blushing, again. Hermes was very good-looking. 'You… I mean… I…' she couldn't think what to say. 'Just… Thanks.' Pandora didn't know how else to express her gratitude.

Hermes sensed she was getting uncomfortable, and offered to take her back home.

'What about my bag? I dropped it in his house.' She looked anxious at the prospect of having to ask for it back.

'I'll go and get it, just wait here.' Hermes vanished…

And reappeared in Apollo's living room. The bag was on the floor by the couch. Apollo looked up as Hermes went to pick it up.

'Get out!' his voice was raised and his cheeks were colouring. He moved as if to hit the smaller god.

Hermes grabbed the bag and vanished, as Apollo's fist hit the air where his head had been. It was a blow which would have killed a mortal. The sun god cursed to himself and sat down again to fume over his loss.

Pandora was relieved at the speed Hermes returned with. Her bag was a little dishevelled but otherwise okay. She tried to hold her questions in, she knew he had already been far more hospitable than she deserved, but she couldn't help it.

'What other powers do you have?' she asked. To her surprise, Hermes grinned.

'I was waiting for you to start asking questions. Let's see, well I can teleport, as you have seen. All of us can do that. Despite what the legends say, we can all fly, I'm just quicker because of my sandals; we can affect our environment, you saw me alter the weather before; we can all change shapes and we all have powers specific to who we are.' He left out the mind reading for now, she didn't need to know. 'Mine are all to do with travelling and speed and communication, because that is who I am, the messenger.' He smiled. 'Dionysus, for example, affects the growth of vines and certain other fruits, Poseidon controls anything to do with the seas, Hades controls the balance of life and death, I think you can work those ones out from the mythology. Oh, and we all have the gift of languages.' Pandora looked puzzled. 'We can speak whatever language we are being spoken to in. And write in any language.'

Pandora swallowed the other questions that had been lining themselves up. She fervently hoped that there would be another time when she could ask them, but now she had other things she wanted to think about, and she had a strange feeling that Hermes could read her mind. One question needed to be asked however.

'Can I go home now, please?'

9. Bad Omens

Though women's intuition is a common urban myth among mortals, it is a fact among the gods, or one god in particular. Due to her husband's habit of womanising, among other forms of meddling, Hera had developed an uncanny set of senses. Most of the other gods had long ago learned to trust her intuition, and it was almost considered solid proof. As she looked out from her balcony atop the mountain, she felt a familiar sense of foreboding. Something big was happening, or about to happen, and it was going to be bad. She wondered vaguely whether to tell her husband, but dismissed the idea. He had been very depressed this last century, after the gods had all decided to stop their romantic affairs with mortals. In the modern world it was just too complicated, and nobody believed in them anyway. Zeus, though supposedly the figure of authority among the immortals, had been upset at the decision. He had seen the sense of it, but was reluctant to give up his many affairs. He had been sulking for about half a century, and Hera had not got anything useful out of him for the whole duration. No, she would have to sort this out herself. She descended to the level of Hermes' home. Hermes was one of the gods she trusted a little more. Though he had a great fondness for human beings, especially those within his power boundaries, he rarely had any romantic attachments and was incredibly sensible. He also knew more about the goings on around Olympus than seemed possible. As she reached the roof of Hermes' house, she heard voices. She alighted gently on the terracotta tiles, and listened intently. After a while, she saw Hermes depart with a human. Soon he returned again, oblivious to Hera's presence. She waited a moment, then entered his garden, and knocked on the door. He greeted her in his human form, and looked a little worried. Hera wondered briefly about the girl she had heard, but decided not to ask, she had other things to discuss.

'I had a bad feeling earlier, something is happening.' she kept her voice calm, but Hermes obviously guessed she was worried. His face paled slightly, a disadvantage of wearing human form, then returned to its normal colour.

'Do you think Zeus has been seeing mortals again?' It was a well known fact that Hera was very intolerant of her husband's affections. Her punishments were often the subject of conversation for some time afterwards.

'No. He has been faithful since the ban. It was something else. Something darker. I felt it had a little to do with mortals, but there is an immortal power behind it. I just don't know what. It feels almost like a war is coming, but I don't know how that would affect us. I just wanted to ask you if you had heard anything, or seen anything. Has Ares been stirring up trouble again?'

'Nothing of great importance. He has had other things to keep him busy.' said Hermes carefully, thinking, _too right, he and Aphrodite have been suddenly disappearing simultaneously quite often recently_. He left that unspoken. 'There have been a few things happening recently, but nothing so dark as your feeling suggests.' He instantly regretted that, Hera's curiosity was a match even for Pandora's.

'What things?' She asked, her eyes narrowing.

'Well… err… um…' Hermes did not want to talk about Pandora, Hera was on the Council of Twelve, she would ban him from speaking to her.

'Tell me.' The statement was said calmly, but Hermes felt the power behind the voice, and knew that she meant to find out, whether or not he wanted to tell. So he told her everything that had happened between him, Pandora and Apollo. He left out his own feelings for the girl, but he knew Hera could probably tell anyway.

After he was finished she was silent for a moment. Then, to Hermes' shock, she nodded to him, smiling.

'You acted correctly. Apollo would have regretted his actions, had his brain been located in his head, and not elsewhere. He often forgets to think before acting, and he may well seek out this girl again. You have my permission to act as you see fit in her aid.' She paused, something obviously on her mind. 'But I do not like the coincidence of her name. Such things are often fate, and her namesake caused much disruption. I believe a visit to the Fates is in order. I may be able to prise some answers from them.' She turned to leave, then paused and looked back at Hermes. 'Please, come with me, I may want some help from you.' He followed her, subservient. She didn't mention that she wanted to speak to Pandora herself. He knew too much anyway.

In London, Pandora had sat down on her bed to do her homework. It felt a little silly now, after what she had seen, but her teachers would still expect it done. She reached into her bag for her books, and felt a sharp pain as something stabbed her finger. She pulled her hand out quickly, and saw a golden spine stuck in the end of her index finger. The end of the spine seemed to glisten purple, but as she drew it out of her finger to inspect, there was nothing there. Pandora dismissed it as a trick of the light, but set the spine down on her cabinet where she could not miss it. Just in case. She settled down to write an essay on modern politics.

Hermes had never like visiting the Fates. He avoided it when he could, but he knew that Hera had done him a favour, and would expect him to come in return. He still shivered as he entered their room. The weaving on the table in front of the three women was incomplete, as usual, but the threads they were using were unlike those he had seen them use before. There were darker threads among a patch of gold, and one thread was a silvery white that he had never yet encountered. It shone brightly in the dim room, and was intertwined with the golden threads, making them seem dim in comparison. He looked away from the mesmerising rhythm of the hands of the weavers. Two of the Fates were intent on their work, but one had been looking at him. He could never tell the three apart, and so could not identify the starer, but he knew the look she was giving him. This trip was not going to yield good news. Hera stepped forwards, about to speak, but the middle Fate stood and spoke first, her voice dry and rasping.

'You should learn well not to meddle, daughter of a Titan. You suspect ill deeds among the house of your children, and the house of the mortals. You come here for answers. We will give none. We help neither god nor human, we are impartial. We do not seek to govern or guide, only to watch, to predict, and to record. To meddle in your affairs by offering you counsel would bend the code by which we exist to such a point that it may shatter, and do untold damage.' She paused, casting a look at each of her sisters before continuing. 'However, we do not like the turn of events we forsee, and my sisters wish to offer you a small glimmer of what is prophesied. We will tell you this, and this alone, history does not repeat, but it does remember. Events will come to pass that will harm many, and the signs of the past will aid in the future. Act wisely, Titan's child. We will watch your thread well.' The Fate sat again, and resumed her weaving, one of her sisters reached out and snipped one of the threads. Hermes did not like the sound that the silver scissors made as the cut through the fabric. It sounded very ominous.

10. Seeing Things

As Pandora lay down to sleep that night, her head was pounding. She assumed it was from the excessive Latin homework she had been doing, which had tested her patience to the furthest limit. It had taken her three hours to complete her set essay, and she felt tired and sore afterwards. The coolness of her pillow did little to relieve the pounding of her head. She closed her eyes and tried to will the headache away. It didn't work, nor had taking a painkiller an hour earlier. As she sat up again to ask her mum what to do, her vision suddenly narrowed. Her bedroom seemed far away, and the sounds of London muffled and dim. They all receded until all she could see was blackness, and all she could hear was a vague hum. Then her vision snapped into full colour, but not her room. She saw a tunnel, and her sight followed it to a door of massive proportions. She went through, into a large room, almost empty. The only occupants were gathered in the corner at the far end. Pandora's gaze went to them. She did not know the people she saw, and the vision seemed slightly warped, making it look as though the people were taller, seven or eight feet high in cases. She blinked and they moved, talking quietly in a tight group. She could not hear them, only the dull humming sound. One of them, a man, the tallest of the group, looked straight at her. His eyes were black, stark against his white skin and framed by black hair. He seemed to stare straight through her, then at her, then his gaze faltered. He turned to his companions and gestured that they leave. They shrugged and did as he bade. Pandora's vision blurred into blackness again, then snapped back to her bedroom. She could hear London again. She lay down, and slept instantly, her headache gone. Far away, on Mount Olympus, Apollo smiled at his cunning. _Jurisdiction? I'll show him jurisdiction…_

At the same time, Hermes was following Hera back from the home of the Fates. She was in a brooding silence, and Hermes knew better than to interrupt her thoughts. Finally, she spoke,

'I am worried.' The statement was harsh and carried much weight, Hera rarely worried. 'There are other things I have seen recently which add to this and give me further cause for alarm, things I cannot possibly tell you about. I feel, having heard from both you and the Fates, that a visit to both Pandora, and your dear half-brother, is in order.'

Hermes remained silent, he had nothing useful to say and Hera expected no input. _Things I cannot possibly tell you about…_ That could be any number of things, some of which did not bear thinking about.

Pandora awoke next morning, feeling numb and detached. Though she had slept well, she felt as though she had been awake all night, drained and listless. Her mum deemed her ill, and made her stay in bed most of the morning. By early afternoon, she felt well enough to wander the empty house, searching for a cure for the boredom. She eventually sat on the old sofa in the living room, a drink beside her, and a book on Greek mythology on her lap. She was engrossed. The glass of water sat forgotten as she pored over the stories, half remembered, and the names and people that went with them. As always, the story of Pandora's box caught her interest. Her namesake shared with Pandora so many traits, faults and flaws that it seemed to the girl that there was some connection. Reading the story now, she realised that the woman may indeed have been real, may have lived and spoken and made mistakes as a human. She _had_ been real. Hermes had mentioned her, Pandora's memory threw out the fact, a little late. Just thinking of Hermes made Pandora feel warm inside. He had been so good, so wonderful to her, and he was handsome. Lost in a private reverie, Pandora did not hear the soft hiss of displaced air and a gentle tread on the carpet until the goddess, she could not be a woman, had entered the living room with Hermes following. Pandora gave a start of surprise, and Hermes grinned slightly, though the goddess' face remained impassive. She walked towards Pandora, almost gliding, with a serene grace that gave an impression of immense power. She was beautiful, dressed in a red tunic with golden jewellery and her brown hair piled and curled on her head, but that did not hide the darker, sharper edges of her face. Watchful, dark, deep eyes; pursed and impatient lips and probably a sharp tongue; angular, pointed bone structure. The woman was harsh and strong as steel. She reached down and put a slender white fingertip against Pandora's forehead, then closed her eyes. For a few seconds she remained motionless and silent, then she drew back with a gasp, her eyes wide.

'She has been poisoned with the prophetic philtre. You no longer have claim for her safety.' The goddess looked calm, but her voice betrayed her anger. 'She is more Apollo's than yours now.'

'Excuse me! I don't belong to anyone!' Pandora did not like to be spoken about and not included, much less be left curious about the topic of conversation.

'You do now. Apollo owns you, or as close as makes no difference.' The goddess seemed disdainful of Pandora.

Hermes addressed her more kindly, 'Did you eat or drink anything with Apollo?'

'Nothing.'

Have you had any injections recently?'

'No.'

Hermes looked thoughtful, 'Maybe…'

'Wait! In my bag… There was a sort of golden needle, it stabbed me and I thought I saw some purple liquid on it, but then it just seemed like my imagination.'

Both gods looked grim at the news. The goddess then grabbed Pandora by the arm. Both Pandora and Hermes looked perplexed, and Pandora tried in vain to tug her arm away from the strong grip.

'She must come with me. I have the authority to remove her. He cannot oppose me.' The goddess seemed firm, almost motherly, towards Hermes.

'He can. She has his gift, however it was administered and that means she is his, body and soul, forever. He can do as he likes now, even a unanimous ruling or an order from Zeus himself would not change the fact that he is legally entitled to her. Blood and bone, soul and spirit.' Hermes seemed grey and unwell as he said this.

'But… I… he… I BELONG TO NO ONE!!!' Pandora began to cry. 'Why? I'm not special, why me? What does he want?' She shuddered and the goddess let her fall onto the sofa.

Hermes came over and placed his hand on her shoulder. Warmth spread from the point, but Pandora could not be calmed by that alone.

'Shhhhhh…' Hermes whispered. 'Crying solves nothing, we may yet find a way. Here.' He passed her a handkerchief. Pandora smiled weakly in thanks. Her face suddenly went terribly, scarily blank and her eyes seemed to look far away.

'He's coming.' Her voice was soft and distant. 'He will take me away.' Horror returned to her face. 'I saw… in my head… he…'

Both gods looked around and then at the wall behind Pandora. She turned.

'Hello mother, brother.' said Apollo, smiling.

11. Council Meet

The next hour went by in a blur for Pandora. First, Apollo tried to pull her away, but the elder goddess had exerted some sort of telepathic control and he could not fly away so they had started yelling at each other. Then, somehow, they all ended up somewhere else. Pandora had a feeling she had been knocked out. When she came back to her senses, she saw she was in a large, spacious hall which was made of marble so brightly white that it hurt her eyes. There were tiered seats circling the main floor, which itself held twelve seats. In fact, they were more like thrones. Unlike the perfect cohesion of style and colour of the tiered seats, the thrones were many different colours, different sizes, different shapes and styles and colours. The clash was unsettling against the whiteness. The gathered throngs in the tiered seats were all beautiful, flawless and inhuman. They sat silent, all eyes on the central thrones. Pandora was watching from the side, sat next to a column. She gasped as twelve beings simultaneously materialised in the twelve thrones. In the central three thrones- purple, blue and black- sat three older men. Her knowledge of Greek mythology allowed her to identify them. The central man, looking around forty or fifty years old, was Zeus. The stormy looking man on his right was Poseidon and the dark haired, pale man on the left was Hades. The other gods and goddesses were not so easy to identify. The thin blonde goddess with a look of utter disdain and boredom on her fine boned face was probably Aphrodite, the crippled god by her side therefore Hephaestus. Hermes, Apollo and Artemis were already known to Pandora, and she could now guess that the goddess she had seen earlier was Hera. Ares was the god in the bronze helmet, his red eyes occasionally flitting over to Aphrodite; and the goddess in silver armour was, possibly, Athena. The final god, fat and bloated and red-faced, could only be Dionysus. His cup was continually being filled by a pretty female nymph, and he kept leering suggestively at her. The gods in the twelve seats sat silent for a moment, then Zeus, looking a little too interested in some of the nymphs, was prompted to turn back to the other gods by a steely glance from his wife and he gestured to Apollo to speak. He stood and smiled ingratiatingly.

'Don't even try it,' said Hades in a cold whisper. 'It will not work on us.'

Apollo's grin slipped and he looked slightly annoyed.

'Well,' he said, in a soft voice so that everyone leaned down in the tiered seats to listen. 'It's rather simple really. The girl has been given the gift of prophecy and so, by the laws set down by this council, she is mine. Her body, mind and soul belong to me forever. That is all there is to it.'

He sat down and leaned back, obviously confident in his case. Zeus then looked over at Hermes, who stood to give his statement, notably less confident than Apollo.

'I have prior claim to Pan… the girl. She bears my crest, willingly bears it.' Hermes was a little pink in the face, almost angry looking. 'I did not force anything upon her, I was not the one who tricked her into taking the philtre. I…'

'Enough.'

One word from the older god, and Hermes sat, looking embarrassed.

'Despite the dubious nature of his gift, Apollo has a stronger claim to the girl as prophecy…' Zeus' voice petered out as the god to his left stood.

At a height of over seven feet, Hades was an impressive figure, made more so by his thin frame, pale skin, and dark clothing. His eyes glowed blackly under his hair.

'I too have a claim to the girl.' His voice was a sibilant hiss, and had Pandora captivated, waiting in curiosity and confusion. 'I did not wish to put forth my case for some years, but events have forced me to speak.'

'What claim do you lay?' Zeus was leaning forward, curiosity and another emotion mingled on his face, perhaps fear.

'She is my daughter by a mortal woman. My claim is strongest, she is mine.'

Both Hermes and Apollo stood to argue but Zeus silenced them.

'We must prove this before we can grant you claim, but if you speak truly, she is indeed yours.'

In the shadows at the edge of the room, Pandora sat in shock. Her mother had never been clear about her father, but _this_… it was impossible. She refused to accept it. It could not be true!

A hand wrapped around her arm and she broke out of her train of thought. Hermes looked down at her, pale and shocked. He seemed reticent to meet her eyes. She stood and followed him out in front of the gathered gods. Hera stepped forwards and told Pandora to close her eyes, and not to open them until she was told. Pandora did so, it helped to block out the idea, the shock, the pain. There was a warm sensation and a slight gasp from the watchers. Pandora was instructed to open her eyes again. Zeus had risen and was looking unsettled.

'It is hereby ruled that the demigod girl Pandora is claimed in truth by Hades. There will be no contest or amendment of this, my ruling. That is all.' He disappeared with the noise of a thunderclap, closely followed by an irate Hera. The other gods disappeared in their turn, as did the assembled watchers, until only Hades and Hermes remained. The younger god looked once more at Pandora, and she strangled a sob when she recognised the emotion on his face. Disgust. Then he too was gone, and the only one left to see her tears was Hades. He took her gently by the hand, an the hall around them dissolved.

12. Happy Families

She threw up. After a shock like that it wasn't surprising, and being teleported had turned her stomach, but it was completely undignified and probably disrespectful in some way. She blushed heavily, expecting retribution and pain and admonishment, but Hades just made a slight gesture and the mess was gone. Pandora looked around her. Everything was in shades of grey and black. There was a garden nearby, detached by a tall black fence. The trees were grey and unhealthy looking. The great palace before her was shining blackly, glowing darkness almost. It was plain and austere, yet gave a sense of magnificence. It loomed. It made Pandora sway, but when she felt like she was going to be sick again, Hades gently grabbed her wrist and led her inside. The halls were dark, grey and dreary. Hades himself, so pale skinned and dark haired, shone against the gloomy backdrop. His walk was oddly stooped, but fast and lithe. Pandora had to almost jog to keep up. Soon, they reached a doorway guarded by two very dead looking soldiers. One was so old it seemed to be almost dust. It held a large curved sword in one hand and a huge shield in the other. Its bones were dark grey and brown. The other soldier wore a Nazi German uniform, and still had mouldering flesh attached to its bones. The uniform was hanging loose and worn. It also held a sword, a strange contrast, and a small black pistol. At Hades' approach they stepped aside, but their swords swung in front of Pandora's face, inches from her nose, blocking her way. Their dead eyes turned to her face, mutely threatening. With a wave, Hades caused their swords to fly apart and hit the wall. Pandora quickly ran past them, and into the throne room…

It was huge. The two thrones stood alone on the central plinth. One was simple and plain, large and elegant, obviously belonging to Persephone. Its neighbour was anything but. A throne had to be large to accommodate Hades' height, but this was beyond practical sizing. It was carved out of a black stone, perhaps obsidian, and at first sight seemed to be in a natural form, all swirls and curlicues. Then the eye picked up individual shapes, and the whole scene depicted became apparent. There were figures and flames. The faces must once have been human, but now they had been twisted, hands reached out imploringly, each person an effigy of utter pain. Their deep pits of eyes called out to Pandora, begging, pleading. She swayed, drawn towards the unholy, craven images. She walked unsteadily forwards, pulled along, almost hearing their crying in her mind, their screams. She reached the plinth and tripped over. She reached out, pulling herself towards the carved images, dragging her body, stretching forwards, her fingertips almost brushing those ghastly, pitiful carvings. They were screaming now, loudly and overpoweringly, a cacophony of tones and pitches, blending together into a single note of complete, utter pain. A hand grabbed her shoulder gently, but firmly. Her mind pulled away, the screams subsided, she felt herself calm down. She stood back up, trembling slightly. Her knees wouldn't support her, she went to grab the throne for support, then pulled away and almost collapsed. Hades caught her, and held her upright until she could stand herself. She looked up, and saw concern on his face. Fatherly concern. That was something new for her, her feelings were swirling around inside her head along with shock and deep down, far below, betrayal, so a loving, caring feeling was utterly welcome. She smiled slightly, and Hades let her go.

'Come down here, I must show you around, and we must talk. I know much about you, but I wish to hear it from your own lips.' He beckoned her to follow him.

'I just want to say,' Pandora mumbled, she had to get this out, it was important. 'Thank-you. You… saved me from Apollo, he… I… thanks.' She smiled again.

'Your welcome.' He smiled, and beckoned again. She followed.

…

The Underworld was grey, as always, and Hades sighed at the monotony of his domain. The gardens did not bloom in winter, and the trees seemed wilted and dead. Walking out of his palace grounds, he thought about the girl who was his daughter. He had not wanted to reveal her identity this early, but the idiot Apollo had forced his hand. Had he gained control of the girl, she would have become useless. For a second the god resented using his daughter as a tool, she was family after all, but he dismissed the thought. She was too important, she was crucial. He had been pleased that she had made little fuss about her movements, she obviously had not been fond of her mortal home, but her evident feelings towards Hermes were disquieting. He had read them from the swirls at the top of her mind. The fool of a god had been completely shocked and disgusted that she was a daughter of Hades, and she had seen this. She of course would not know that all his other children had caused harm in the world, but Hades considered making him pay for hurting the girl anyway, it would relieve his guilt about using her slightly. He could make her feel a little better for a while. He reached the courtyard of the main terrace, and calmed his mind before he left. They might pick up his discomfort and see it as a sign of weakness. He could not allow that. They had to trust his judgement, now more than ever.

They met in the mortal world, as always. This time, they were in a forest in the far North, Scotland perhaps. There were not very many of them, five figures meeting in the dark, but that was comforting in its own way. The small group allowed trust, something that was paramount to their aims. Hades pushed through the dark fir trees to reach the clearing. He saw he had been the last to arrive. The others were waiting for him, silent and expectant. He felt the weight of responsibility settling again, and composed himself.

'Greetings brethren.' His voice was soft, but the forest was still and silent.

'Greetings.' The reply rippled along the gathered shadowy group.

One of the figures stepped forwards. It was Athena. Hades recognised her, even when she was cloaked. She held herself in such a way that her arrogance and self-belief was obvious, her pride evident. She was going to be trouble tonight.

'You never told us about the girl!' She hissed, serpentine. 'You should have told us! We have a right…'

'You had no right.' Hades needed only to raise his voice to normal speech level to make his point obvious. Athena was silenced and the others shrunk back in fear. The dark god was terrifying at times. 'She was my business, mine alone. I had not planned to reveal her existence for some time. She was more use to me unknown. But that…' Hades muttered something under his breath, 'that idiot, Apollo, ruined my plans. He and Hermes will pay for their involvement, however unwittingly.' He paused. 'Now, to business. Progress?'

Ares stepped forwards. 'Lord Hades,' he nodded to the taller god, 'I am afraid there is no word from the mortals. They still do not know of the satellite's progress. If I may say so, we do not have anyone placed at a high enough level to get the information we need. We may have to resort to less reliable means, less pleasant means. The others will need to become involved at some point, we could use Hermes' speed.'

'We will not inform them yet. There are other things to consider. The great lord Zeus has been less charitable recently. His mind has been distracted and he misses the companionship of mortals. Hera has been harsh with him, he will not join us readily. Others will be as difficult to persuade. But I do agree, Hermes may be useful, and I think I can make him help us.' He smiled to himself. 'You may go now, the longer we remain together, the more vulnerable we become.'

The others departed one by one, but one remained. The small figure looked towards Hades, almost saddened by the broody look on his face, then she too disappeared. Hades sighed and returned to the Underworld, already he was feeling guilty about Pandora, she was family after all.

Pandora was sleeping fitfully whilst this occurred. Her mind swirled with images, disconnected and fleeting, they hurt her mind as they sped through just out of reach. There was a sound in her room and she started awake. She remained still and looked towards the door. There was a figure there, a male figure, and he hadn't seen her wake. He stepped out into the lighter ground near Pandora's bed and the girl recognised Hermes. He crept up to her and reached for her neck, feeling around until he touched the silver necklace chain. He moved to undo it and Pandora grabbed it and sat up. The god jumped back. He looked at her with a mix of fear, disgust and perhaps pity. She sat watching him, and he stood watching her. They remained silent for a few moments, then…

'Please, don't take it, don't hate me. Please. I am still the same person. I…' Pandora was afraid of the harsh look on his face.

'You are tainted, your blood is dark. Give me back my pendant, and I will leave you to rot with your father.'

'No, I am still me, still good. He is not evil, don't hate me. I need you. Please.'

She reached out to touch the god's arm, he flinched but she held on tight. Her vision suddenly receded and her hearing disappeared. The world was gone. Then it appeared again, a forest. There were cloaked figures. They were muttering, she couldn't hear them. The tallest unhooded and she saw that it was Hades. They spoke a while longer, then one by one they disappeared, Hades last. Pandora remained a moment longer, then her sight returned to the palace of Hades and the god leaning over her. Hermes had gone white and ashen, he looked incredibly shocked.

'What?' asked Pandora, almost unwilling to know what would scare an immortal god.

'I saw what you saw, heard them speaking.' Hermes sat down heavily on the bed, hatred forgotten for now. He was shaking slightly.

'I could not hear what they were saying. Was it that bad?' It hadn't seemed evil or threatening to Pandora, but she supposed she was not an expert of the ways of the gods.

'Yes. It was very bad. It sounded like they were plotting. I know who they all were, and I heard everything. They…' Hermes stopped short, looking around warily.

'What?'

'He's coming!' Hermes tried to pull away from Pandora's grip but she clung on.

'Who's coming? What's happening?'

Hermes gave a slight groan and stopped pulling at Pandora's grip. Hades had appeared in the doorway of the room and he looked less than pleased.

'What are you doing here?' Hades' voice was devoid of all emotion, and was all the more terrifying for that. Hermes trembled in Pandora's grip.

'I came to retrieve what was mine by right.' He gasped quietly, sounding young and afraid.

Hades saw the silver pendant hanging from his daughter's collar. His expression darkened.

'It was given freely. You cannot remove it from her unless she wills it, you know the rules. Do not condemn her for her bloodline, she shows no trace of my powers. The only thing she appears to have inherited is my physical figure, and that is not a sign of evil by anyone's standards. Nor should you judge her by the others I have fathered. I am not evil, as you should well know, and yet you and all your kind seek to condemn me for the division of power I did not make. My lot in this world was delegated by your father, how can you judge me by his decision? And you most certainly should not judge my daughter.' He glowered at the smaller god, and his eyes glowed black in the gloom.

Pandora looked at Hermes. He was shaking visibly now. She let go of his arm, but he didn't seem to notice, his eyes were fixed on the older god.

'Traitor.' Pandora hardly heard Hermes' voice as he whispered the single word, but Hades moved as though slapped. He stepped back a pace, paling, and gaped at the Hermes. The younger god stood a little taller.

'How did you…? You don't understand…' Hades sat heavily down on Pandora's bed, his stoop more pronounced. He looked older, and very weary. He glanced over at Pandora, sitting still and silent on the bed, and seemed to make a connection. 'You saw…? The gift… I quite forgot. Apollo and his stupid…' Hades started muttering to himself, cursing under his breath occasionally. He turned to Hermes. 'Did she tell you what she saw? She would not have understood…'

'No. I saw it through her. She has not been taught to control her gift and I was touching her hand at the time the vision came about. I saw and heard everything, and in time so will my father.' He made as if to leave but Hades jumped up, and caught Hermes by the arm with surprising speed. The young god lost what little confidence he had regained. Pandora could see sweat on his forehead. There appeared to be some sort of mental battle going on, and Hermes was losing. He gasped suddenly, as if in pain, and grabbed his head with his hand. He fell to his knees, shaking violently. Hades appeared calm and unfazed. Hermes moaned, his eyes rolling, in obvious agony. Pandora reached out to him, but Hades swatted her hand away. She jumped off the bed and reached out for Hermes again, dodging her father's hand. She did not understand what she was doing, but her instincts took over. She touched the young god, now writhing on the floor in pain, and deep inside she felt a power surge, a beast awaken. She stood, still touching Hermes, her eyes ablaze. She threw her hand out in front of her and screamed inside her head. She closed her eyes and saw the world from a different angle. In front of her was a glowing ball of power, her father. She pushed and saw a surge of power from her hands hit Hades. He stepped back, shocked.

'Is he worth fighting for? He hates you, despises the very blood in your, our, veins. He is worth nothing.'

'Then let him go.' Pandora's voice was ice and venom.

Hades nodded slightly and Pandora realised she had opened her eyes again. He released his grip on Hermes, and the young god lay still, his breath sharp and ragged. Pandora, too, released Hermes. She stepped towards her father.

'I am sorry for that. I don't understand what's happening, nor what I just did, but I know that you had no need to hurt him. He did nothing wrong.'

'He did nothing but call me a traitor, and such a thing is offensive to my ears beyond belief. But…' And here Hades smiled, 'What just happened was a stirring of power. You have inherited more than good looks from me it seems. As to what you saw, that I cannot explain. You will know, in time, but not yet.'

Hermes groaned and sat up, his eyes were bloodshot and his skin was clammy with sweat.

'Be thankful that you had my daughter's protection, messenger,' said Hades, 'Otherwise you may have fared so much worse. I think she is foolish to help one who hates her and her family, but she is half human and that brings with it strange sympathies.' Hades nodded to Pandora, then stalked out, pausing at the door to say in a very final tone, 'You will speak of this to no one until I permit it.' He left.

For a few minutes neither Pandora nor Hermes spoke. They sat in silence and darkness. Then Pandora reached up to her neck and undid the charm that Hermes had given her. She passed it over to him without a word. He looked up at her and shook his head, closing her hand on the silver disc.

'It was given and accepted in free will, and so it remains. Keep it, though my protection is of little use against your father or so many others.' He looked rather uncomfortable now, embarrassed. 'I am sorry, truly sorry. I judged you by him, by the others, and that was wrong of me. Please, forgive me, though I do not deserve it.' He looked so bashful, so disheartened, that Pandora forgave him instantly. She reached out and brushed his face gently with her fingertips. He looked up into her face, shocked. He wrapped his long, thin, pale fingers around hers, so similar, and pulled them away. Pandora opened her mouth to speak but he put a finger to her lips, hushing her. He leaned towards her, hovering an inch from her face. Their eyes were locked together, the world outside that single space had dissolved into insignificance. Nothing else mattered, or existed. They stayed like that, still and close, for a few moments. Then Hermes leaned in suddenly and kissed Pandora on the lips, gently at first. When she did not resist he kissed her harder, more fiercely and she pressed herself against him, wrapping her arms around his neck, safe. He leant back from her face and brushed a hair behind her ear. She smiled gently at him. He pulled her into an embrace and leant his head against her neck, smelling her hair. He closed his eyes, wanting this time to last forever. His hands traced patterns on her back, making her shiver in his arms. Suddenly, Hermes stiffened as though listening. Then he stood, disentangling himself from Pandora.

'I have to go, my father calls.'

'Come back, please. Come back soon.' Pandora let him go regretfully, her arms reaching out to grasp at the air he had occupied so few seconds ago. Then she flopped down on the bed and slept, worn out by emotion and overused energy.

Far above, in the mortal world, Hermes flew into the chill North wind, hoping it would purge the headache and emotional confusion from his mind. He spiralled higher, into the damp clouds. High above the world, he paused to think about what had happened. He realised that nothing he had heard through Pandora was directly incriminating, suspicious maybe, but nothing wrong, nothing illegal. Maybe Hades was not a traitor, maybe he was not evil after all. And Pandora was certainly not evil. Hermes frowned, ashamed of his behaviour towards her. He would visit again, apologise properly maybe. He thought she may have already forgiven him. Smiling, he flew into the wind, towards one of the many gates out of the mortal realm. The dawn sun gleamed on his ashen-gold hair, and then he was gone.

13. Mnemosyne's Children

Far away, in a woodland glade filled with sunlight, sat two teenagers, a boy and a girl. Both had dark, curly hair, the boy's cut ragged to hang at chin length, the girl's just brushing her shoulders. They were at the edge of a thin stream, dangling bare feet into the cool rushing water. The sun shone through the leaves on the high trees, midges and dragonflies fluttered about in the thick humid air, tall grasses murmured and swayed in the warm, gentle breeze. Every now and then, the calm stillness of the air was disturbed by a splash as one of the teenagers threw a stone into the silvery water, casting ripples across the sunlight dappled surface. The atmosphere was calm, relaxed, and yet the girl and boy wore matching expressions of intent concentration. They were the same height, had the same face shape, the same figure. They were obviously twins. They leaned against each other, back to back, and each at an exact point between two oak trees on the other side of the stream. A few moments later, a man emerged between the trees. He wore strange, bronze armour, and was sweating in the blazing heat. His brown hair hung in damp strands around his face, and his eyes shone red beneath thick, black eyebrows. His sword hung at his side, wickedly sharp. He looked down at his queer, clanking armour and scowled at the two teenagers. He stepped towards them, and tripped on a rotting log, half submerged in the stream. He keeled forwards, falling face first into the water. He jumped up dripping and lunged menacingly at the twins. When they did not flinch, or even move, he seemed to lose heart and sheathed his sword. He sat down on the opposite bank of the stream and watched them silently for a short time. Then he clapped his gauntleted hands, but nothing happened. He looked puzzled, and then irritated when the teenagers looked at each other and grinned.

'End this charade.' He growled, his voice deep and animal, fierce.

The twins both closed their eyes for a second, and the glade was gone, dissolved away into nothingness, leaving only a dark, cold cell. The man no longer wore the strange bronze armour, but a red tunic. He still had a sword, now curved and bronze, rather than thin and silver. The hilt was set with red and black gems, the pommel a great ruby carved in the symbol of a skull. His feet and hands were now bare, tanned and calloused. He stepped towards the teenagers and they stood, identical in height. They both wore loose fitting jumpers and baggy jeans. Their eyes shone silver and cold against their pale freckled skin. They were over a foot and a half shorter than the man, and much thinner. He grabbed each by an arm and dragged them out of the cell. In the next room, a woman was waiting. She wore a long blue tunic, embroidered with a Greek key design edging and held at the shoulders by silver brooches, engraved with owls. Her honey coloured hair was mostly enclosed by her helmet, which she wore balanced on the top of her head. A few wisps of her curly locks had escaped, though their exact placement and perfect curl made them seem deliberate. She was lounging on a silk couch, eating grapes and sipping from a goblet of wine. When she saw the teenagers approach she set the goblet down on an ebony table and stood to greet them. They remained impassive, their faces cold and hard. She sat down again, and motioned that they sit too. They ignored her.

'Come now, Darius, Delia,' She smiled ingratiatingly at the twins, 'Be sensible. You must talk to us at some point. We need some information, you can get it for us. It is a simple bargain. We do not want to hold you here, but your cooperation is imperative and we cannot afford to let you both run around, telling our plans to all and sundry.' She smiled again, baring her straight white teeth. 'Now, agree to help us, and you can both go free. The task is simple, for you and your talents, and we will reward you well for it.' She looked at the two teenagers expectantly, waiting.

They glanced at each other, then spoke in unison. 'We will not undertake this task for you,' The woman opened her mouth to speak, but they silenced her with a motion. 'Unless we are informed of you plans, everything. After all, 'scientia potestas est', as mother always says. Knowledge is power. If you tell us the truth, and we can tell, then we will do as you ask. Do you agree to those terms, lady Athena?'

'You ask for that which is hardest to give, children of Mnemosyne. You are much like your mother indeed. I agree to those terms. Now, attend, for I will only tell you once. I am in no mood to spend my hours telling stories over and again.'

The twins sat on the floor before her, rapt. They hardly blinked, and didn't move. The man nodded to Athena, his work accomplished.

'Go to Hades now. Tell him that the children have consented.' Athena waved him away with an impatient gesture. 'You have done as instructed here Ares.'

Ares said nothing but turned away and stormed out. His eyes betrayed his anger as he marched out, leaving two smoking holes in the plaster wall.

14. Visitors

Hades paced back and forth in the throne room. Nothing bad had happened, but he had a feeling of disquiet, as though something was about to occur. He sat on his throne, draping his legs over one of the arms. He got up again, restless. He toyed with the idea of talking to Pandora, and moved as if to leave the throne room when Ares arrived at the door. Hades motioned the guards to let him through and the older god sat on his throne again. Ares bowed slightly.

'The twins, Darius and Delia, they have agreed to assist us. They had to be told of our plans, but that seemed small concession for their skills. They will be ready for your word, whenever you believe the time is right.'

'That is excellent. I have no qualms about them being informed. They will not pass on our plans, like their mother they value knowledge above all else. They will keep silent.' Hades smiled, and some of the restless feeling was lifted.

There was a noise in the hallway, a soft noise of moving air, the sound of an intruder. Hades sprang up immediately, gesturing to the putrid guards, who drew their swords and ran towards the noise. As Hades reached the door, followed by Ares, there was a clattering, and a sound of shattering bones. A pistol banged on the floor. Ares drew his sword with a vicious hiss. Hades stood taller, reaching his full and considerable height. He turned the corner and his foot kicked a dry and desiccated skull. Apollo stood at the far end of the corridor. He caught sight of the two gods and his eyes widened. Hades was suddenly beside the god, his long fingers curled around Apollo's neck.

'Why are you here?' He asked, his voice a harsh whisper.

'I… get off me!' Apollo choked.

'WHY?!'

'Pandora…' whispered the younger god, breathless.

Hades let him go and stalked along the corridor. He turned back to Apollo, and his face was so dark, so menacing, that even a god was terrified and staggered backwards as though hit by a physical force.

'Never come near my daughter again. Never. You would regret it most severely.' Hades' voice was almost too quiet to hear, but the young god understood him well enough. He nodded, shaking, and vanished.

Hades pushed past Ares, who was himself a little shocked by the god's behaviour. In a dark mood, Hades caused his palace to become dark as well. At the moment the throne room was near pitch black. With a slight inclination of the head, Hades told Ares to leave. The older god sat for some time, broody, on his throne. After several minutes he stalked away out into the corridors again, heading for his daughter's room.

Apollo, though scared and shaken by Hades, had to see Pandora. When he left the two gods near the throne room he did not leave the Underworld, merely moved up several floors to Pandora's room. She was asleep when he entered, it was just dawn in her world. He crossed the room silently. She moved a little in her sleep and he caught sight of the silver charm she still wore around her neck. How he longed to rip it from her, but he could not. Instead he reached down to stroke her long black hair, so like her father's. She mumbled something indistinct and slept on. Apollo kissed her forehead gently before disappearing, just as Hades entered the room. The older god did not see the lingering golden shimmer left behind as Apollo departed. He saw only the girl, silent and sleeping, and breathed a quiet sigh of relief before returning to his throne room to call up some more guards.

On his way back down, Hades heard once again the quiet displacement of air signalling the appearance of an immortal. Immediately rage grew in him, he assumed it was Apollo again. He strode out towards the sound, then started slightly to see the slim frame of Hermes standing there, looking lost. On seeing Hades, Hermes bowed deeply.

'Lord Hades, your pardon. I was looking for you to ask your permission to speak with your daughter.'

'Why do you come, you were here not so many hours ago.' Hades was suspicious.

'I know. I felt a sense of intrusion or trespass near your daughter, not strong but there. She wears my symbol and I was… curious… as to the cause.' Seeing the look on the older god's face he added: 'No offence meant at your protection of her, Lord Hades. I just was curious as to what caused the disturbance.'

Hades backed down a little, though still offended, he knew Hermes well enough not to be placated by his silver tongue.

'Apollo was here. Could that have been noticed?' He did not know how powerful the charm was and how strong its bond to its maker.

'That may well have been the cause.' Hermes nodded slowly. 'May I see Pandora anyway? I wish to speak with her.'

'At the moment she is sleeping. Return on another day, at a later hour.'

'She has woken now, my lord.' Hades sensed a slight psychic movement, a feeling sent by Hermes' charm. He knew the younger god spoke the truth. It irritated him, but then the gods on Olympus always did.

'Very well, you may speak with her. But do not stay too long. Cerberus is hungry today.' Hades stalked away, not waiting for a reply.

Pandora had just finished getting dressed when there was a gentle knock at the door. She padded across the soft, dark carpet and opened the door a crack to see who was there. Seeing Hermes she gasped slightly, blushed, and opened the door fully. At the sight of her flushed face, Hermes grinned broadly. Stepping into the room, he marvelled at how much Pandora actually looked like her father. Her high cheek bones and dark eyes were very close to his, and there was a suggestion of his jaw-line in hers. Her skin was a less pallid tone, but she was half mortal and had spent much more time in the sunshine than he. Her hair was not so dark either, and much finer and silkier. Her body was tall and slender too, and she held herself in the same stooping posture. But there were enough differences that they did not look immediately alike, and Pandora had obviously inherited some of her beauty from her mother.

Hermes realised he was staring, and making the girl blush even more fiercely. He looked away and she let out a quiet sigh of relief. The silence was awkward. Pandora shifted from foot to foot, uncomfortable, not knowing what to say. Hermes heard an indrawn breath, but the only sound that came out was a high-pitched keening of pain. He looked up as Pandora sank heavily to the floor. He reached out to grab her arm and steady her but a voice from the doorway breathed,

'No.' He did not need to be loud to make himself heard. Hades' voice had a way of reaching inside the hearer and forcing them to listen. 'You will see what she sees again, and I cannot allow that.' He paused, regarding the discomfort on Hermes' face. 'She is in no pain. It is not a vicious gift. The noise is related to the images, her vocal cords attempting to recreate what the mind sees and hears, but the images move so fast that the voice cannot keep up.' Hades sighed, and Hermes realised for the first time that the man might be worried about the girl as a father. The image didn't quite fit in Hermes' mind, there was always a catch with the dark god, always a price.

Hermes was interrupted from his thoughts by Pandora sitting stark upright and screaming. This was not a simple scream of a frightened girl, it keened and wailed on levels beyond human hearing, but not beyond godly ears. Both gods fell to the floor clutching their ears in agony. The scream went on longer than any breath should last, and louder than possible. At the gates of the Underworld, Cerberus pricked his six ears and howled an accompaniment in three part harmony. Stalagmites shattered and crumbled and the pomegranates in the garden of Persephone burst simultaneously. Finally, Pandora paused to draw breath, and both gods were ready for it. Hermes grabbed her, wrapping a large, thin-fingered hand around her mouth while Hades hastily dismissed the skeletal guards running towards them. The girl wriggled in the younger gods grasp and her eyes flashed senseless, inhuman panic. Hades stepped in front of her. He closed his eyes for a moment, apparently in thought, then Pandora slumped in Hermes' grasp. He lowered her carefully onto the bed and gave Hades a questioning look.

'I will deal with her from here, you may go.' The older god waved him away dismissively, but Hermes sat next to Pandora and folded his arms.

'No. I stay.' He said firmly. His voice was strong, but in his mind he quavered at this defiance of a greater power.

Hades looked down at him then gave up and nodded. He turned his attention to his daughter, placing his pallid fingers on her temples. His breathing slowed and he reached towards his daughters presence. He slithered past the walls of her mind, snake-like, until he reached her centre, the core of her being. He paused, realising how long it had been since he had done this, how out of practise he was. He slowed himself and headed towards a glow that represented memory. The individual memories appeared like shining stars, pulsing in coloured glow: red for anger, blue for calm and sadness, yellow was happiness, black was fear or worry and so on. Hades concentrated and exerted a little power and the most recent memories lined themselves up for him to observe. He selected the last, one which oozed blackness with hints of purple, the colour of prophecy. It rushed over him, and he saw a blur of images. The decelerated gradually and he felt his body again, standing now on an empty plain. Pandora was just in front of him, oblivious to his presence. The sky was grey and blank, cloudless. The floor was a grey stone, stretching away into the endless horizon. There was nothing particularly terrifying here, nothing happening. Pandora sat down and looked to the sky, so Hades copied. He saw nothing there except shadowy suggestions of clouds. He watched in silence for an immeasurable amount of time. After a while he started to scan the horizons, in search of something to break the monotony. He saw nothing. He was considering removing himself when he heard Pandora gasp. He looked around and saw nothing. Then he looked up.

Far above, diving through the clouds like monstrous bolts of lightening, were the creatures of legend and myth. Hades recognised most, and was horrified by the fact that many had been given wings, the power of flight adding to the many powers they already possessed. They dove together, all aiming for one point and one alone. Pandora. The cause of her fear was apparent, with a thousand thousand monsters descending upon her. She screamed, and Hades left the memory. He moved back to the previous memory. It was blurred, too fast for even an immortal mind to follow. There were sounds too, reminiscent of those Pandora had been making. There was no emotion, just the blur and the feeling of speed. Pulling back even further, the god spotted a glowing blur of pink and red emotion. It was not a memory as such, it was a collection of memories held together as having an aspect in common. Knowing he shouldn't pry, Hades did so anyway. His senses were suddenly overwhelmed with a figure. There were mixed emotions of love, adoration, shame, hate, embarrassment and desire. Knowing he was intruding and not caring through his curiosity, the dark god focused on the figure. He almost laughed. It was quite amusing really, it was definitely something he could use. It was Hermes.

As Hades' face cleared and his mind returned to his own head, Hermes was worried by the small grin that flitted across the god's face before he turned back to face his daughter. His face spasmed through worry, back to the cold indifference it normally wore. He pulled his fingers away from her temples and the girl's eyes fluttered open. She looked groggy for a moment, then her eyes widened again in unseeing fear. Hermes clamped his hand over her mouth once more just as she started to draw breath to scream. Hades held his long white fingers in front of her eyes and clicked them loudly. Nothing happened. The god frowned. He focused on the girl and the atmosphere seemed to shiver slightly and then the girl relaxed. She looked up at Hermes, her eyes once more showing conscious thought. She still looked afraid, but not so much that it was out of her control. She sat up and turned to her father, seeming to be about to speak, but he cut her off.

'I have seen what you saw. There is no need to explain.'

She looked a little shocked, he had not been here when she collapsed. 'How…?'

'I entered your mind, examined your memory. Do not worry, I did not pry elsewhere.' The small lie tugged at the god's conscience. It was strange, normally such things did not affect him. Perhaps simply because she was his daughter, he was more susceptible.

'Oh.' Pandora let out a sigh. There was nothing else to say and, unusually for her, she had no questions she wanted to ask.

'It would be best, I think, for you to remain in here for now.' Hades added. 'Both for your safety and…' He paused.

'So no one else gets to see what's going on in my head.' Pandora finished for him, a hint of resentment in her voice.

The older god did not reply, simply nodding and sweeping out of the room, closing the door behind him. This left Pandora alone with Hermes, who she noticed was sat on her bed. He was paying her no attention at all, his eyes staring into the middle distance, obviously deep in thought. She looked at his face, his handsome, attractive face, and realised (though perhaps she had known all along) that what she was seeing wasn't real. The face he had now, could be a different one to the one he wore tomorrow. She was attracted to a mask, something that could be changed at the owner's whim, and she could never see his real face and live. It was an awful thought, and Pandora had to turn away to fight back tears. It was stupid, his affections would no doubt pass in time. She should tear her heart away from him while she still could think straight. A hand on her shoulder told Pandora that she was now the one gazing into space, and Hermes the watcher. She could not turn to face him, not after thinking what she just had. His hand remained on her shoulder for a moment, then fell away. The silence stretched out uncomfortably between them.

'What's wrong?' Asked Hermes at last. He was desperately forcing himself not to simply gaze into her brain and pluck the thoughts out. He wanted her to trust him.

Keeping her face down, her eyes averted, Pandora replied. 'I just thought some things. I mean, I realised properly… who you are… what you are… I can't expect…' She paused and organised her sentence. 'I will never see your real face, only ever a mask, I-'

Hermes cut her off. 'You worry because I am thousands of years old, because I can change my appearance at a whim, because I have known countless women in my years and because you think that my feelings will pass, given time, leaving you hurt and broken inside.' It was not a question. He sounded as though he was reciting something he had heard a long time ago, and his voice was incredibly sad. 'I remember every mortal woman I have ever loved, even those who have lain dead for longer than you can imagine. I still love each and every one of them, and their passing still pains me to this day. I do not throw my heart around lightly, just because I am immortal does not mean I cannot be hurt.' He sighed, the weight of the years pressing down upon him. Then, in a whisper, almost to himself, he added, 'And some wounds cannot be healed, god or not.'

Pandora turned to face him, and saw tears in his eyes. His words had sounded truly genuine, and his face showed such sorrow that she couldn't help but pity him. Suddenly mortality seemed so much sweeter. She leant in close to him and hugged him, wanting to push the pain away. He wrapped an arm around her and hugged back, gratefully.

'Thank-you.' He said, when she pulled back. He wiped his eyes with his hand and smiled weakly. 'I know that you cannot see my real face, but I swear to you that this is the only form I ever wear, or have worn, as a human. I hope that will suffice, for now.'

Pandora nodded, smiling back at him. It would do for now. She had no desire to be immolated, just for a glimpse of his face. Her face changed expression then. She wanted to ask questions. She was aware this was not the best time, but she wasn't going to ask Hades, that was for sure.

'Um… Hermes…?' She started, not quite sure if he was the best person to ask either.

He sighed, he knew she was going to start asking. 'What?' He answered, though not unkindly.

'Well, I know that Hades isn't evil, right. Just like Apollo isn't all sweetness and light.' She grimaced at the thought. 'But why then do they both look like that? I mean I can understand it in Apollo, he wants to look good. But why look evil? What's in it for Hades?'

'He can't help it. He can change his physical human appearance, but it will just revert to the 'dark look', after a while. He is limited by human expectations. He looks how they expect him to look. Humans see death, and anything connected, as an evil force, malevolent. Just as they see the sun as good, even though it doesn't care for them and can be destructive.' He looked into her face. 'Does that answer your question?'

'Yes, but-'

'You have more.' He said wearily.

She nodded. 'How come then that Hades acts quite cold and, well, deathly. He was allotted this job by Zeus, right? When the three brothers fought over who got what. Was it just coincidence that they each got the one matching their own personality?'

'Correct. But imagine being the Lord of the Dead for thousands of years. Imagine living down here in this palace, alone for half of the time, surrounded by grey and black and dead things. Wouldn't that make you a bit cold? The job shapes the god, and human expectation plays a part too. In combination, they force us to be what we seem.' He held up a hand so she couldn't butt in, he obviously had more to say. 'I know we Olympians treat Hades like he's evil. We know he wasn't, not at the start, but we are bent by humanity's perceptions and have come to view death as evil over time. It is a difficult pattern of thought to break.'

Pandora didn't reply, the idea of thousands of years alive was a scary one. Always looking the same, being the same person, made that way by a job you were forced to take. It must be awful. Hades must have been a saint to start with, if all he ended up as was cold and distant. She shuddered. She had never been so glad to be a human.

'Don't worry about it.' Said Hermes after a moment, with a rather forced smile. 'We have become accustomed to our roles, and there is nothing that can be done about it. There is always work to be done, so it is not so bad.' Pandora did not look convinced. Hermes wasn't surprised. But he was not going to tell her what it really felt like, to be an immortal, incapable of death, knowing that the world was going on without you. They had once been incredible beings, the gods, worshipped and feared, praised and cursed. They had been able to do what they liked, they had shaped the minds and hearts and arts of all humanity. Now, to be a forgotten dream, remembered only in books and long dead stories, was such a fall, such a loss. It was the reason so many of his kind had turned from humanity, It hurt them to see that the world still turned without them, that other things now held the respect of humans. Not gods, at least not in the real sense, but concepts. Money had always been one, and power, but there were new ones too. The gods could not understand the modern world and the ways of the international corporation, the internet, the stock market. It pained them to see their own ignorance and so they had deserted their charges. Only the few whose jurisdiction could not change- Hermes, Poseidon, Hades and Ares- had retained any of their feelings for humanity. Zeus himself had been rejected long ago, no one feared thunder anymore. Nor did they see the sun as a god, nor the moon, nor the earth. But the sea was always the same sea, unpredictable and untameable. Men still died in the stormy depths, and so there was still faith, of a sort. Similarly, journeys were still dangerous and war was still war. And as for death, well, when all of the other gods no longer had anything, humans would still fear death. Hades would still wield a last vestige of power, even when every other god had faded from memory.


End file.
